Ruthless (Wolf Ranch #6) - Renee Rose Page 0,59

to Uncle Adam in the same loopy scrawl as was on the back of the photo. The sender was Maggie Landing, and she’d sent it from Broomfield, Colorado.

I inhaled sharply. So this was after their break up.

With trembling fingers I pulled out the letter and opened it.

Dear Adam,

To honor my mate, I won’t write again, and I must ask that you please not write me back. I wanted you to know, though, that you were right. Leaving with my mate—even though discovering him was sudden and unexpected and frightening—has been the happiest decision of my life.

I know I broke your heart, and for that I will forever be sorry. I will always treasure my memories of you, my best friend and my first sweetheart. But there’s no denying fate. Fate chose another male for me—I knew him the moment I caught his scent. He makes me unbelievably happy. My wolf is happy, I’m happy. Our love grows and blossoms more every day. I’m getting used to living with his pack, and I’m already pregnant with his pup. Forgive me if this news is painful to you—that was not my intent, I only write to reassure you that I’m content, and I hope you can be, too.

Thank you for supporting me always, even—especially—in letting me go to be with my fated mate.

I hope someday you’ll find your version of a fated mate. The love that only grows.

Best wishes,

Maggie

I sniffed, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. Poor Uncle Adam. He fell in love with the wrong girl.

But at least Maggie had found joy. It didn’t sound like some kind of pack-arranged marriage. It was the kind of attraction Rand described. What he claimed he had with me. One scent, and he’d known, just as Maggie had mentioned.

The love that only grows. Was that what we had?

Did Rand actually love me?

He’d said what he felt was just like love, but I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t a shifter, I didn’t feel it the same.

The lone wolf howl sounded again. I jumped to my feet. It had sounded closer this time.

Had he come for me?

Remembering how he’d gone to the swimming hole that night of the full moon, I started running up the stairs. Was he there, waiting for me?

It was probably irrational. Possibly stupid. But I felt like he might be there again. At my swimming hole. Where he’d shown me his wolf and gave me the gift of my violin back.

Now, he was giving me space but watching over me in wolf form.

He was letting me go but not leaving. He’d said he’d never leave. That was love. So was the way he winked at me. The way he showed up every day after work. How he’d fixed the broken step. Moved the spider from my bedroom and outside.

It was so clear now. So obvious. He might not have said the words, but he’d shown me. Maybe that was more important. Actions didn’t lie. My parents actions were obvious, filled with anger. Hate. They resented each other, and it showed. It was clear there was no love between them.

But Rand? Every single thing he’d done sprung from love. Maybe I’d been the one blinded by the wolf. So caught up in differences, limitations and the past that I’d lost sight of the rest of Rand. Of us.

I grabbed a sweater and dashed out onto my porch, stopping to listen to the night sounds. Hoping to hear the wolf-song. My wolf-song.

Somewhere nearby, I thought I heard a twig snap, and I startled, peering into the darkness.

“Rand?” I asked. My voice sounded froggy from crying.

A shiver of foreboding ran through me as I listened to the silence. I’d never been afraid at the house before, but I suddenly wished Rand was here.

Another howl pierced the air. Rand! I was right! It was closer than before—not up on the mountain.

I started running for the swimming hole, certain he’d be there.

The issue of Rob asking Rand to talk to me about the B&B suddenly seemed overblown. It had made me feel like an outsider and question Rand’s intentions, but I should have given him a chance to explain. I shouldn’t have pushed and resisted and feared his commitment to me. It was the only thing I knew to be true.

I stumbled over rocks as I ran through the darkness, wishing I’d brought a flashlight. But I couldn’t stop, couldn’t go back. A sense of urgency had come over me, and I couldn’t stop until